


in which i am unfazed

by justanonlinelove



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26367121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanonlinelove/pseuds/justanonlinelove
Summary: "in this poem, i am unfazed....now in reality, i am very, very fazed."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	in which i am unfazed

**Author's Note:**

> i know i wrote this in the present tense but chill out i'm over whatever you probably think i'm not over it's just easier to write about things that made me feel like shit

in this poem, i am unfazed.

when i find out a boy has notifications on for my snapchat, i tell him to fuck off. i twist together elaborate insults. i do not care when he responds 'chill out feminist get a sense of humor'. 

when a girl says she does not love me, i say congrats. i tell her that i hope that she is happy. i do not compare myself to the girl i could never be.

when a girl ruins my second favorite musical, i do not cry. 

when a girl tells me i can fight her, i do it.

when a boy makes self harm jokes at me, i roll up my sleeves and flip him off.

my sugar coated words become sugar glass. they are broken shards. my words drip, molten sugar, sweet but too hot to touch.

i am not afraid to say what i believe.

i am everything i want to be, and i am beautiful.

now, in reality, i am very, very fazed. i'd call it a talent at this point. 'girl manages to be fazed by everything: the ordinary tragedy'.

when a girl says she does not love me, i break. i care very much. everntually, i learn to deal with it. i move on. healing is not spun sugar melting on my tongue; but it happens, slowly.

when a girl ruins my second favorite musical, i do cry. i cry, and i scream, and i learn what hate means. i wear it like my favorite jacket now. it is familiar and warm, and not quite sadness. i go to a lot of therapy.

when a girl tells me to fight her, i do not do it.

when a boy makes self harm jokes at me, i do not say anything. i do not tell him that he's not funny.

when a girl notices my existence on the first day of school, i dye my hair as some sort of silent retaliation that night. i make rusted-nail decisions. i change myself for the temporary rush. it is new yet familiar. 

my life is imperfect and messy, hair dye stains and dripping fingers, blood and sweat and tears.

clearly, i am not living in this poem.

but oh, my love, aren't i?


End file.
